#i nearly cried i felt so bad for him

[fun-k-boards]

One time a guy confessed to me and I thought he was joking so I laughed in his face

[luxrayz64]

like we were so fucking robbed of seeing perez in the wake of saw vs events I want to see her getting out of the hospital and flipping tables and pointing a gun in ericksons face after being told that strahm is the lead suspect. I want to see her having a breakdown after strahms fingerprints come back dead. I want to see her hand twitching over her gun everytime she sees hoffman. I want to see her fucking losing it and desperate to avenge her friend and partner and to clear his name. I want to see the thought process that lead to her inviting known serial killer mark hoffman to the basement lab just so she could torture him psychologically before she had a legitimate excuse to shoot him. I want to see more of her and I want to see how strahms death impacted her the way the reverse impacted him.

[astral-catastrophe]

Being the way I am, I ignore the shit I haven’t processed, but now I’m crying because I don’t want to go to camp

[dollfacefantasy]

kinktober day 12 - cockwarming dick grayson x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, cockwarming, praise/degradation

"Ah, ah, ah. No moving, baby. That was the deal, remember?" your boyfriend coos from behind you.

Your velvety walls flutter around him, all your other muscles going taut with frustration. Tilting your head back, a whimper echoes from you.

Right now, he was really living up to his name.

"Pleaseeeee, Dick," you whine. A pout forms on your lips even though he wouldn't be able to see it from this angle.

"No," he laughs and pats your ass, "You said this would be enough for you. That you didn't need strenuous activity to feel good."

He was laying in bed, as the doctor (Alfred) had ordered. A pile of plush pillows pile behind him, keeping his bruised face elevated. More cuts and scrapes littered his chest and abs and mark up those beautiful muscles with remnants of the pain he'd endured. You sat on his lap facing away from him, his cock buried inside you.

Last week, he had a pretty rough night. On patrol, some guys got the jump on him, had some weapons he'd never encountered or something like that. It was hard to understand the story with the way he'd mumbled it out when he came home barely conscious. The state he was in scared the life out of you. You called Alfred in tears, sobbing into the phone about how you thought Dick was gonna die on the floor of your kitchen.

As it turned out, he was fine. Totally fine by now, which was why you felt comfortable rubbing up on him and snaking your hand down south to the waistband of his loose sweatpants. It had been over a week since Alfred told him to get some rest, and he had no real injuries. He just loved to tease you, so he insisted sex was still beyond the limitations of his current physical capabilities.

He made you BEG to even sit here with him inside you. You hoped that would convince him to take it easy on you for the rest of this, but clearly, you'd overestimated your boyfriend's compassion.

"Why? You don't even have to move," you plead.

You don't have to see his face to know the gleam of amusement his eyes hold and the smirk that spreads over his lips.

"Sure, sure. Cause you never get tired halfway through being on top and start whining for me to take over," he mocks, "I know that'd be the next thing you ask for."

"I won't," you defend, "Please just let me move... I need it."

You look over your shoulder now and catch sight of the stupid look you'd envisioned in your head. Those pretty blue eyes gaze up at you, his ego clear in each cerulean fleck. His hands below knead the soft muscles of your ass. They dig into the flesh and rub at your thighs too. The touches send tingles straight to the pit of your belly, more arousal leaking from you in response.

"I don't know... It's bad enough you're not letting me rest properly, but now this? Seems like you're asking for a lot," he goads.

Anguish plumes in your chest. You nearly topple forward and smoosh your face into the blankets, the urge to kick and pound your fists on the bed insurmountable. Instead, your hands clasp around his meaty thighs. You squeeze as if that could give you the will to remain motionless. If you moved before he gave you permission, you weren't sure you'd see another orgasm this year.

"Dick, come on," you beg, head hanging, "Why do you hate me?"

That gets a hearty laugh out of him. His palms smooth up your sides to hold your waist.

"Don't try to guilt trip me, babe. You're not very good at it," he says. The pads of his fingertips massage your curves in tiny strokes. "You can wait a little longer."

"You've already made me wait so long. It hurts," you plead. If guilt wouldn't work, maybe sympathy will.

"Oh, does it? I think that's just your pride, sweetheart. You're acting so pathetic for me right now," he teases.

You didn't know what to try next. More broken cries tumble from your lips. In truth, waiting didn't hurt, but it was growing uncomfortable. The slick between your legs was sticky, and you wanted to get away from it by bouncing up and down. His length had been sitting inside you for so long it felt like a word you'd said too many times. The only way to forget about it would be to fuck yourself silly on top of him.

But he stays true to his word. He makes you wait. You sit on top of him for you don't even know how long. Occasionally, he shifts his hips, acting as if he just needs to get comfortable; the motion strikes one of your pleasure spots every time though.

You bite your lip, trying to not lose it. If this continued at this rate, you'd be in tears soon, which you really wanted to avoid as they would only make him more merciless.

Regardless of your wishes though, you can feel them starting to bloom in your eyes. Frustration burns like fire in your lungs. You turn your head to look at him again, wanting to try one more time to reason before you fully break down.

That plan goes out the window though when you see this man on his phone. He lounges there, scrolling through whatever without a care in the world.

"Dick!" you cry, a couple tears spilling over your water line.

His eyes flit up to your face just as your arm swings back to swat him. He catches your wrist, amusement pulling at his lips.

"Swinging at me when I'm wounded?" he mocks.

He softens the smallest bit when he sees the tears, bringing his hand up to swipe them away with his thumb. You sniffle at the gesture. Your lip wobbles with the desire to unleash more humiliating noises.

"What're the tears for, pretty girl? You really wanna move that bad?" he croons, dragging the bow of his index finger down your jawline.

You nod, eyes casting down in shame.

Knowing laughter bubbles up from his lips. His finger tilts your chin upwards, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Let me hear you ask nicely one more time," he says.

You almost crumble on top of him right then, but you can't lose it when you're so close. With a deep inhale, you suck it up and bat your eyes a few times.

"Please?"

He grins at you and taps your hip. "Turn around for me and then go ahead."

Eager as can be, you clamber around and situate yourself so that you're facing him. Your legs quiver. It felt unusual to move after being full and seated for a while. When you're settled, plush thighs pressed against his sculpted sides, you plant your hands on his chest.

You don't waste time before rising up and sinking back down. A strangled moan falls from your lips at the relief. Some of the tension that had webbed up in the pit of your belly begins to loosen as you bounce.

His hands land on your hips, guiding your movements into a steady rhythm. You can tell he's enjoying it too from how he sighs and the way his jaw clenches.

"That's it. Worth the wait?" he asks.

"Mhm," you whimper.

Your ass smacks against his pelvis over and over. The sound of skin on skin fills the bedroom along with your combined grunting and moaning. You roll your hips, getting him as deep as possible. Your spine arches in tandem with your head falling back.

He takes advantage of the view you're giving him, one of his hands rising to grope at your breast. His fingers cradle the mound as the rest of you continues rutting on top of him. He flicks your nipple with his thumb, tearing more mewls from your lips with the bursts of sensation.

"Look at you, going dumb already. You're that needy for me?" he mocks, giving your stiffened bud a little pinch.

You yelp and nod, not bothering to defend yourself.

Your noises increase in volume as you continue to ride. Breathing likens into panting while shudders overcome your body. All of you convulses with each jump of your hips. It's getting harder to keep the pace, but you don't want to admit that. You don't want to prove him right.

It doesn't matter if you want that though because he can tell. He can see your motions getting jerkier. He feels the way your walls tighten around him with abandon.

To try and help you a little, he digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up. Happy moans echo from you, your lips widening into a smile. He can't help but match the expression. This was his favorite sight in the world, his pretty girl blissed out. Nothing on your mind but him.

Without waiting for you to say the word, he boosts you up and flips you onto your back on the mattress. He springs to his feet beside the bed. Pulling you by your hips, your pelvises meet at the edge, and he takes over thrusting.

His fingers press into your inner thighs as he maintains his grip. He plows into you faster than you had been going on top. Leaning forward, he bends you in half. Your thighs press against your chest. His body heat oozes all over you.

This position lets him slide deeper inside you than before. Each rock of his hips nudges his tip against a spot that makes you cry out. You would be seeing stars if not for the fact that your eyes are rolling back.

"So fucking greedy," he croons, "Always wanting more than you can take."

You whine in protest, hips weakly squirming under the weight of him. Blinking yourself back into focus, you try to conjure words to argue that you could take it. That he's the one who flipped you over.

But all you can muster is a pouty "You're so mean to me."

He laughs in your face before smacking a kiss on your quivering frown. "You love it. Being nice doesn't ever get you so wet," he mocks.

You can't help the way your cunt clenches around him at that, sucking him in further. He hisses in response and presses down on your legs harder. He's as far in you as can be now. Every thrust fills you up just how you like.

"Mhm, there you go. Nice and tight for me, baby," he teases. One of his arms wraps around your leg to thumb at your clit. You squeal at the fiery sensation and writhe against the blankets so much you may get friction burn.

He chuckles and continues speaking. "I'm only mean cause I have to be. If I let you have it your way, I don't think you'd ever get anything done. You're such a little slut. You want my cock all. the. time," he says, punctuating the last three words with particularly brutal thrusts.

Crying out, you nod. You just agree with what he's saying, not really taking in a word of it. As long as he didn't stop, you were content.

He continues slamming himself against you. The bed creaks from his rapid pace.

Your mouth hangs open at this point. Unfiltered sounds come out while he grits his teeth above you. His thumb keeps swirling over your sensitive little bundle of nerves all the while, dragging you closer to the edge.

"Dick!" you wail.

The hand on your clit leaves and clamps over your mouth instead. His forehead comes to rest against yours, his breaths fanning over your face.

"If you get us a noise complaint, you're gonna get used to just sitting on my cock," he says, "I won't go easy on you next time. You can cry all you want to, and it won't change a thing."

Your eyes flutter with lust. He could be so annoying, but fuck, you loved it. You knew Dick wasn't one for idle threats either. He'd have you sit on his lap all full and fidgety for hours if he wanted.

The image is all you need to spur you to the finish line. Your hips buck up against his, shaking violently as they seek out more pleasure.

He feels the way you tighten and release, massaging his shaft and beckoning him to do the same. A few thrusts later he gives in to the temptation. He drains himself inside you. Rope after rope of hot, sticky cum floods into your cunt. His head drops against your neck, silky black locks damp with sweat against your skin.

Both of you finish out with a few more lazy movements. In the afterglow of your passion, he lingers on top of you for a few more moments. His body remains dead weight, melted against your own.

When he finally finds the will to move, he kisses a trail from your shoulder up to your lips. The tender exchange makes the feel of him pulling out more bearable. Maybe he was right, maybe you are a little greedy. You'd just had him for all that time, but you still didn't want it to be over.

Either way, he flops down next to you. The teasing is gone from his eyes for now. His pupils hold a genuine look of adoration similar to the feeling in your chest. It's only a brief eclipse though because his mocking returns as he leans in to nip at your cheek.

"I think you cured me, babe. I'm feeling much better now," he says with his usual cocky smile.

[rafesangelita]

farmer’s!daughter!reader surprising rafe with her cheerleading costume!

warnings: cowboy!rafe, sexual innuendos, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl, use of the name ‘daddy’ (just once), pet names, slight praise, cream pie

a/n: you can find the halloween costumes for all my !reader’s here <3 thank you for your req!

“okay! you promise you won’t laugh?” rafe sat up against the headboard of your bed, waiting in anticipation as you hid from him behind the bathroom door. “i promise, ‘darlin, just come out.” he watched as you stepped into his view, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. there you were, the prettiest girl he has ever known in a cheer costume get-up. “..well?” you smiled, shimmying the pom poms at him as an amused expression took over rafe’s features.

“woww,” he nodded approvingly, “do a spin for me, doll face.” you giggled, bending over slightly for him to get a full view of your ass peeking out of your shorts. he clenched his fists at the sight. you were just too dang perfect. his eyes ran down your form, a deep breath leaving his lips when you stepped closer to him. “does this cowgirl like reverse?” he raised a brow at you. leaning down, you pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering; ‘mmhm, she loves it..’

shortly after you said that, rafe had you bouncing on his cock, his large hands squeezing the flesh of your hips where he fucked into you with vigor. “fuck, baby,” his forehead rested on your back as you moved on top of him, “riding your favorite cowboy, hm?” you cried out, nodding even though he couldn’t see your face. “mm, f-fuck— yes, ray!” he grunted, fingers snaking down to stroke your sensitive clit. your nails dug into his thighs, your pom poms long forgotten on the floor.

you looked so sexy, your needy pussy swallowing him whole with every deep stroke. “goddamn, you’re taking it like a fuckin’ champ.” he landed a hard smack to your ass, shushing you when you cried out at the stinging sensation. “nghh— you feel so good, sweetheart, holy—” you sat back on your hands, grinding on him slowly while resting your head against his chest. “wanna make you cum so bad, daddy.” you whimpered, letting him litter your neck with wet kisses.

rafe couldn’t think straight. with the way your cunt had a death grip on his cock, he found it nearly impossible to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. balling one of your pigtails around his fist, he yanked you down, using you as leverage to thrust into you at an unforgiving pace. your tits bounced with every snap of his hips, your hand holding onto the nape of his neck for balance. rafe felt your walls flutter around his length, a telltale sign that you were going to cum soon.

“s’my little slut gonna cum?” he rasped in your ear, the pads of his fingers rubbing mercilessly on your swollen bud. you hiccuped, a gasp leaving your lips when he licked a stripe up the column of your throat before kissing you sloppily. rafe groaned inside your mouth, the build up of his peak beginning to take effect. “please! want you to fill me up..” you whined, his large arm wrapping around your torso to keep you close. soon enough, you were shaking in his embrace, your thighs threatening to shut around his hand.

“doing so good, baby, m’gonna fill you to the brim.” he bear hugged you against his chest to keep you still, spilling inside of you as you squeezed around his length. he was panting against your skin, trailing kisses up your shoulder. “m’tired now.” you mumbled, letting rafe take what was left of your costume off. “i know we don’t celebrate halloween, but damn we need to do that more often.” he laughed tirelessly, stroking your cheek.

[sturnsluttz]

Let me~Chris Sturniolo ꣑ৎ

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After a shitty day all you want is your boyfriend Chris who’s wants nothing more than to make you feel better, especially if that means softly fucking you till you can’t move.

WARNINGS: Soft dom Chris x sub fem reader, established relationship, smut, p in v, fingering, oral-fem receiving, slow sex, gentle Chris, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it plz), aftercare

enjoy xx

You sat lazily across your bed, drained from an equally horrific morning, day at work and drive home. You had stained your last white work top, rushing out the door, been screamed at by your boss and when you thought the bad luck was over you nearly got rear ended on your way home.

As soon as you had arrived home all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out then call your boyfriend, Chris. You didn’t expect him to come over but you just wanted to hear his voice. Attempting to call and not cry you picked up the phone laying by your side, clicked his contact and it began ringing. You caught a faint glimpse of your reflection on the screen, Jesus, you looked rough. Quickly sniffing and wiping away the faint mascara stains off your face you recollected yourself before he answered.

“Hey ma” Chris talked through the phone enthusiastically, “Hey Chris” you responded, smiling to yourself at the goofy nickname. Chris sensed your dull tone immediately questioning if you were ok. “I had a really rough day, I didn’t mean to bother you, just wanted to hear your voice” you honestly admitted, “aww y/n I’m sorry, I’ll be right over, do you need anything while I’m omw?”

“Chris it’s ok you don’t have-“ you were cut off “No y/n tooo late, I’m leaving now” you giggled at his sassy response, “thanks” you huffed, “course ma”.

It wasn’t long before you heard a knock on your front door, you were too physically drained…and comfy to get up and open the door so you texted Chris to let himself up, but by the sounds of it he was already doing just that.

A glint of light hit you as your door was slowly cracked open. Standing there was Chris, with a sympathetic smile on his face, “hey y/n”. You didn’t know why, you were happy he was here but you began to feel that hot burning sensation in your eyes as a tear dripped down your now lowered face. “Shh sh it’s ok, I’m here” Chris spoke dropping his bag (presumably to stay the night) at the door and rushing to wrap his arms around you. He sat cradling you as you cried pathetically into his chest, squeezing him tight.

Chris held your shoulders lightly prying you away from him so he could see your face. You dropped your head to look at your twiddling thumbs, not wanting him to see you in such a state. “Hey baby, look at me” Chris spoke, lifting you head to look at him. You sniffled not even wanting to imagine how horrific you looked right now. “There’s my girl” Chris responded smiling at you, wiping away your tears and dripping snot shamelessly.

“Can you let me look after you ma?” Chris spoke softly, you nodded confused on what that ment but grateful nonetheless. He moved carefully from your comforting side, directing you to lay down. He adjusted around you comfortably laying next to you, drawing circles on your arm with his finger. Before you nearly nodded off to sleep at the calming sensation you felt a hand tap your hip, your gaze shooting down to meet his, “Can I take these off and make you feel good baby?” Chris said gesturing to your shorts with his eyes. You nodded back at him, helping him pull them down as he threw them lightly to the floor.

Chris stared in awe at your pink lace panties, toying with the waistband he glanced at you for permission and with a nod of your head they joined the pile on the floor. “So pretty” Chris praised, lowering himself between your legs, opening them. Your breath hitched at his new position squeezing your legs back together “it’s ok baby, let me see how wet you are for me”, you felt Chris’s breath on your thighs as he spoke sent light shivers up your spine. “Relax y/n, let me make you feel good” Chris whispered, reverting your legs back to their previous open position.

“Please” you muttered, your cheeks turning a dark shade of red, snapping Chris out of his admiration trance. “Of course baby” he responded placing a hand on your thigh. Chris inched closer to your heat, without warning placing a small kitten lick across your folds “mhm Chris” you whimpered at his touch somehow already sensitive. “I know baby, I know” Chris continued, licking up and down your slick, stopping to give a gentle kiss to your clit. He paused before carefully running a finger against your cunt “can I” he questioned before going any further. “Mm yes” you panted out, desperate for more of his touch.

Chris knew the control he had over you, he knew he could rail you to pieces if he wanted too. But he didn’t, he cared. All Chris wanted in that very moment was to take care of you. You felt his finger delicately enter you, your back arching him further into you. Strangled whimpers left your mouth as he began to pump his finger in and out of you. “Mfm-fuck—Chris” you moaned as he moved, “Mmore—please” you muttered. Granting your wish he added a second finger, his angel blue eyes locked on your contorted face as he continued pumping into you.

“Mm-Chris—Ddont stop” you chocked out, “I’m close”. His free hand lay holding your waist, the other still thrusting into your dripping pussy. “I won’t baby” Chris answered, and without slowing the pace of his fingers his tounge joined his fingers licking circles around your clit. Sweat beaded at your forehead as you felt your orgasm burn inside you, and without warning the knot snapped with a loud moan. Chris slowed his movements helping you ride out your high. Detaching his tongue from your swollen clit.

His face moved to meet yours, slowly pulling his fingers out of you in the process. His hands moved to hold either side of your face, kissing your lips. You could feel your own cum still on his fingers as they moved back down to reach under your shirt, squeezing your tits lightly. “Chris, I” you began “yeah” he replied, his eyes never leaving your face as he continued caressing your boobs. “I want you—“ you paused, “inside of me, not just your fingers” a light grin crept across his face as you spoke, “are u sure ma? I don’t wanna overstimulate you” he responded, care in every word. “I-im sure, I need you” you continued, your stomach fluttering with embarrassment.

Only second had passed before Chris’s pants and boxers grew the pile of the floor. He held himself over you while he pumped his length in his hand. Warm precum dripped onto your stomach before you felt his tip graze against your puffy folds. “You ready sweetheart?” Chris questioned, you nodded frantically as a reply, feeling his tip push into you. Your hands shot up to hold his waist for support, your nails digging into his soft pail skin “Mhmp—sorry” you apologised as the little red indents you left became visible “don’t be, I’ve got you” Chris whispered back. You felt his dick sink further into you, your insides stinging as you adjusted to him. “I’m halfway baby, you talk to me—tell me when you want more” Chris assured, so careful not to hurt you, “now” you exhaled while giving a light nod.

Chris finally bottomed out, his tip kissing your cervix “tell me when I can move baby” Chris says holding painfully still as his dick throbbed inside you. “Mfmm-uh-n—now” you whimpered back to him. Chris granted your wish as he began carefully thrusting in and out of you.

It wasn’t long before your pussy started to ache from overstimulation. Your previous organs hit you so fast and Chris’s dick was already inside you giving you no time to recover. You squirmed under him, his thrusts slowly rocking you back and forth. His speed picked up likely to chase his own orgasm, “C-Chris—mhm-sensitive rem-member” you reminded “sorry baby” his hips immediately slowed “your pussy just-uh-squezin me so—t-tight”

His thrusts continued at a much slower pace as your orgasm began to rebuild. Your pussy aching around him. “Mm-im c-close” you moaned. “Let it out gorgeous” Chris responded, and with that your orgasm hit you with a painfully guttural moan. A tear ran down your cheek as you tried to recover, Chris still thrusting deep inside of you.

“Mhmpf—C-Chris!” “T-too much” you cried, your thighs shaking from overstimulation. “I know ma-I-im sorry” Chris moaned into the crook of your neck, making your brain go fuzzy. “I’m so c-close I promise” he continued, you only whimpered in response before your insides were filled with that warm sticky sensation.

Chris panted loudly, trying to regain his composure “im so sorry baby” he spoke, his dick still holding his release inside of you. “You ok?” He asked, obviously concerned, you nodded tiredly in response as he let out a sigh of relief.

He pulled out of you, making you wince from overstimulation-him immediately apologising. The white liquid began to leak from your pussy onto your bed, “shit sorry ma, I’ll clean that up” Chris spoke. He stood up from the bed pulling his sweats back on, leaving to go get a towel.

A minute or two passed before Chris was back, with a wash cloth in hand. You attempted to get up but the shake in your now jelly legs prevented you. “Here, I gotcha” Chris chuckled, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He sat you carefully on the edge of the cold bench, wetting the cloth with warm water. Chris leaned between your legs, your core still throbbing “im just gonna clean you up baby, I’ll be gentle” he spoke softly. You felt him wipe your thigh lightly, you shivering at his touch “too cold?” He questioned “no-it’s fine, thank you Chris” you assured him as he continued to clean you up.

You returned to your spot in his arms as he carried you back to your room, dressing you in your favourite pjs. “Chris why is there a white stain on my favourite sheets” you questioned looking at your bed, “whoops” Chris replied, a guilty look painted on his face which made you laugh. “This what happens when I let you look after me? You giggled at him, “maybe” he replied.

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LMK IF YALL LIKE THISSSSSS-it’s also not proofread so sorry if there are any mistakes😚😚

-ari xx

[azmageddon]

Silence

Pairing: Azriel x Cassian's twin!healer!reader

Summary: When you get stuck Under the Mountain, your mate finds the sudden silence deafening.

Warnings: none!

a/n: Based on an anonymous request! Requests are so fun! I love exploring ideas I never would have thought of. Keep them coming! This all takes place within the same AU where reader and Azriel kept their relationship secret from the IC (besides Cassian).

Azriel's POV

The silence was deafening. Never in the last 450 years had he felt such empty silence. The bond was never closed. 

But now it was silent and cold. The golden thread that joined him to you floated from the middle of his chest, right at the center of his soul, into nothing. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes, rubbing until he saw stars, willing this to be a dream he would wake up from. But Azriel knew better than to think this was a dream. He never slept anyway. 

“Keep Velaris safe,” Rhys’ voice had said. “And don’t come after us.”

Rhys’ voice was calm, yet commanding. It was the demand of a High Lord: something Azriel physically couldn’t ignore. 

At first, he didn’t understand the command. What did he mean, don’t come after us? Keep Velaris safe? You and Azriel had just been having a mental conversation, gossiping over the abhorrent fashion of the Autumn brothers, when Rhys’ voice interrupted you mid-sentence. 

But when Azriel reached back out to you to ask what the warning meant, he was met only with the thick, suffocating silence. 

The bond was never closed. It stayed open when you were hard at work: treating the injured, delivering babies, or easing the pain of Illyrians’ clipped wings. It stayed open when you were angry, or sad, after an argument, especially if you wanted him to feel particularly bad about it afterward.

The bond was never closed. Not when he went on missions for weeks at a time. Not even when he dragged Rhys’ prisoners to the dungeons of the Hewn City and did unspeakable things. You were his comfort. Your shared emotions were what grounded him, reminded him that life was worth living. They were a constant in his life, as effortless to absorb as breathing. 

You had become his inner voice; his conscience. His reminder that he wasn’t the villain of this story. Now that it was gone, he wasn’t sure. 

For 450 years, the bond was never closed, a vow the two of you had made when you accepted the mating bond. But now, that silence was louder than any battle or war he had ever partaken in. 

The memory of when he had found out you were mates played in his head. Azriel couldn’t keep the memory from flooding into his mind and the guilt that came along with it every time he remembered. 

You, covered in blood that wasn’t your own, watching him with worry in your eyes. 

“How long have you known?” He remembers asking, venom lacing every word he spat at you. He was angry and embarrassed; how could he have missed all the signs? How could you keep such an important, life altering secret from him? He couldn’t show that embarrassment, couldn’t show weakness, especially not to you. So he chose anger instead. 

“Since the day we met,” you replied, taking a step and trying to close the gap between the two of you. Instinctively, Azriel took a step back, the shock turning his embarrassment to shame and anger to rage.

“I was eleven when we met, Y/N,” he hissed, implying the absurdity of the time frame. Nearly a century of his fate was kept a mystery to him. Cassian had joined them at that point, pointedly observing that Azriel wasn’t taking the news well. A thought surfaced in his mind. Turning to Cassian, he has to refrain from advancing on his longest friend. “And how long have you known?” Cassian’s silence was the only answer he needed.

Azriel shook his head to clear it, choosing not to remember how you cried at the way he turned away and left you with your heart in his hands, just for him to crush it. 

It all made sense after your confession. He never understood why you insisted on being childhood friends. He was broken and lonely and disowned by his own family, but you had always shown true kindness and friendship. As you grew together, you slowly evolved into innocent adolescence first loves, and eventually adult lovers. It wasn’t until your untimely move from Illyria to Velaris to work for the late High Lord that Azriel never saw you again. That is, until the first war with Hybern and your admission of the truth. 

After Azriel had recovered from the initial anger and shock, your best kept secret had become a shared secret as the two of you accepted the bond. He still remembers the first time he heard your voice in his head. Your lovely, soft voice that wrapped around his mind like the sweetest honey. 

“Old age getting to you?” You teased as Azriel took what looked like a painful blow to the stomach from Rhys during training. 

He was so taken aback by your voice that he even turned to you, thinking you had said it out loud. But you weren’t looking at him; you had your back turned in a combat sequence with your brother. 

The momentary lapse rewarded him with another hit from Rhys, this time on the side of the head. 

“Everything alright, brother?” Rhys asked, concern flooding his voice. 

But Azriel only smirked and turned back to his brother to begin again. 

“You’ll pay for that later, love” he responded through the bond and could have sworn that he saw you falter in your training from his peripheral vision. 

How could he have let this happen? How could he have not foreseen that you would be taken from him? A mysterious invitation calling for the High Lord and his second in command to attend a party Under the Mountain? What kind of Spymaster couldn’t ascertain the danger that now all-consumed the other half of his soul?

Azriels felt something hit his knees, the sting traveling up to make his teeth chatter. He pulled his hands away from his eyes and saw that he had fallen to the ground of the Townhouse. Cassian quickly knelt in front of him, gripping his shoulders to keep him from total collapse. 

Azriel stared at Cassian and saw his lips moving rapidly, but no words came out. He furrowed his brows in confusion. What was he trying to tell him? 

In fact, Azriel heard no sound at all besides the buzzing silence in his ears and his own mind hurling insult after insult of his own sad excuse of being a mate. 

But wait…that was it. Cassian had turned to the others and Azriel was able to read the words on his lips as he spoke to the remaining Inner Circle in the room: She’s his mate.

All at once, too many voices spoke and the sounds came rushing back to Azriel. As if he would keep him from dissolving through the floor, he gripped onto his found brother for dear life.

“Cassian,” Azriel groaned, finding his voice at last. “Cassian, she’s gone. I can’t feel her.”

“We will get her back, brother. I promise.”

[webslingingslasher]

Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.

this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!

“I kinda want a black eye.” 

Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 

“Oh, really?” 

You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 

“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 

Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 

“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 

Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 

“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 

You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 

Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 

“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 

“Do you have a friend that could-” 

“No.” 

—------------------------------------

Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 

It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 

You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 

If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 

Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 

Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 

“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.

Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 

His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  

And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 

“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 

You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 

Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  

He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 

“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 

“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 

You sob, “it hurts.” 

Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 

“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 

You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 

Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 

It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 

His powers, his abilities, his strength.

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 

He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 

He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 

Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 

You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 

“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 

It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 

“I hit you.” 

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 

“That’s a little dramatic.” 

Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 

“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 

He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 

You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 

“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 

“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 

“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 

Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 

“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 

“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 

It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 

“I was joki-” 

“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 

Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 

You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 

A black eye? Sick.

“Wait, really?” 

Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 

“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 

This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 

He hit you.

“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 

“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 

“But I-” 

You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 

It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 

“No more wrestling.” 

You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 

He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 

“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 

Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 

“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 

He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 

You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 

“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 

Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.

“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 

You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 

“I’d never!” 

Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 

[ellecdc]

so what if im ovulating 🙄 doesnt change anything

anyways closer to a full moon remus would be so mean and rough and sirius would have to be the one thats soft with you and praises you and its such a 180 it makes you feel even dizzier than you were already feeling, hed coo and tell you how “youre doing such a good job for our moony, sweet girl” and remus would just be grunting “mine mine mine mine”

ive not rly studied for my exam do u think theyd pass me if i wrote this instead? xoxo

....... I'm not proud of this.......

wolfstar x fem/afab!reader close to the full moon (nsfw, 18+)

CW: pure filth, 100% smut. little fluff in the aftercare. p in v sex, cumming inside someone, over stimulation, slight subspace mention (?), slight dom/sub dynamics if you really squint and look at it sideways, writer is still new to writing smut and not well versed so be nice

There were quite a few things that Remus and Sirius had in common.

They were both very mischievous, they were both funny and teasing, they were both very protective and possessive, and they both seemed crazy about you.

But there were also a lot of differences between your two boyfriends. 

Remus was calm and assured; he was your rock and safe space when life got crazy. He was the good cop to Sirius’ bad cop, he was always down to leave the party early, and he was so incredibly soft with you.

And Sirius, whilst soft on you, was rarely ever soft with you. He was boisterous and excitable; always down for fun and adventure. He was quick to anger but just as quick to fold when your lip wobbled or you bat your eyelashes at him, and he knew how to push all of your buttons like a professional pianist’s fingers dancing along the keys of your soul. 

And it was because of this that you found your current predicament quite contrary to the norm (and thus, so much hotter). 

“I…I can’t, I can’t.” You cried breathlessly; currently held upright by a strong arm around your ribs and another hand gripping your neck.

The only response you got from the boy behind you was a low grumble as he tightened his grip on you and thrusted into you with new vigor. 

“Can you give Rem one more, sweetness?” Your usually very brazen  boyfriend murmured softly, pushing some of your sweaty  hair away from your face so he could see you. 

You keened and shook your head as you felt Remus move his hand that had been roughly gripping your waist down to your clit; every muscle in your body strung taut in response. 

“She’s close.” Remus gruffed from behind you before replacing his teeth gently into your neck.

“Are you close, sweets?” Sirius confirmed. 

It was too much, too much. You were very quickly reaching your… (third? Fourth?) orgasm of the evening and you weren’t even sure you’d been going at it for that long. 

Sirius was in much the same state, currently soft and satiated below you where he’d just spilled down your throat before you were pulled back up vertically to the sound of steady chants of “mine” by Remus. 

That had been his third of the evening too. 

“You’ve been so good, baby; so good for our Moony, yeah?” He cooed at you softly as he sat up. You felt tears form in your eyes as Remus shifted you in his grip so that your knees were barely touching the bed any longer. 

“Tell her she’s been a good girl, Moons.” Sirius encouraged gently, taking your hand in his that you quickly held in a death grip.

“S’good.” Remus nearly growled behind you. “My perfect girl.”

You cried out as you felt yourself fall over the edge one last time, tears falling down your cheeks as Remus fucked you through it.

Remus shifted his hands again to grip each of your wrists behind your hips and let your torso fall forward into the bed as he sped up his already merciless pace into your sopping cunt; the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room. 

You felt Sirius’ hand push hair away from your neck and rub a thumb against your temple. 

“Gonna fill your good girl up, Rem?” He purred to your boyfriend.

Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the two of them share a deep kiss which never even slowed Remus�� thrusts. 

“Mine.” Remus repeated as he pulled away from Sirius.

“All yours, Moony. Show her how much you love her, hm?”

And with that, Remus’ thrusts stuttered before he was spilling deep inside of you.

He came with a sound that bordered a whine and a growl as he fell forward; his body blanketing yours and burying his face into your neck as you both fought to catch your breath.

You’re not sure if you had fallen asleep, but the next thing you knew you could feel gentle kisses being pressed to your shoulder as Remus pulled out of you as gently as possible; with how oversensitive you were, it still caused you to hiss.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, dovey.” He whispered; pressing more kisses to your neck. “Are you sore?”

You whined in response and tried to shove your face further into the bed.

“Talk to us baby, are you okay?” Sirius added, appearing beside you and encouraging you to face him.

“M’Okay.” You mumbled, staring what you were sure was rather dopily at your long-haired boyfriend.

“I think Pads ran you a bath, sweet thing.” Remus murmured quietly, rubbing soothing strokes up and down your spine from behind you. “You feel okay to get up?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, though made no movements to rise from your current horizontal position.

You heard Sirius chuckle but Remus made a sympathetic cooing sound. “I’m so sorry, dovey. Are you sore?”

“No. Just sensitive.” You grumbled as you pushed yourself up to sit back on your ankles. “That was a lot.”

Remus sighed and brushed some hair away from your face. “It was a lot, but was it too much?” He clarified; tone inlaid with a subtle vulnerability completely at odds with the relentlessness he’d just treated you with.

“No.” You said as you offered him a sleepy smile. “Not too much.”

“I, for one, had a ton of fun.” Sirius said with a clap of his hands, causing Remus to snort a laugh.

“Yeah I bet you did.” He responded teasingly. 

“Wanna take a bath, princess? Go pee and then you can climb in with moons.” Sirius instructed as he helped you stand up on slightly wobbly legs. 

“No, she can climb in with you.” Remus argued. 

“Why would she climb in with me? I ran the bath for the two of you.”

“I was the one who took things too far, so-” Remus started, causing both you and Sirius to squawk in protest.

“She just said it wasn’t too much.” Sirius drawled. “Let me take care of you guys!”

“No!”You listened to the two boys argue over who got to perform the aftercare for the other (and thus, who loved each other the most, according to Sirius) as you went pee and then sunk into the perfectly drawn bath alone.

[arminsumi]

Hi❣️ may i request Suguru Geto with Honey + Pure Sugar + strawberry syrup?

... a bad boy!Suguru whisks you away on his thick Harley 'n wants to put a baby in you. He proposes marriage after only knowing you for two weeks, 'cause he's fucking crazy.

ㅤ★ promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, aftercare 🫶

Ah, fuck, why'd you always have to fall for the bad boys? Worse, why did you feel turned on when you watched their knuckles go white just before punching someone's lights out in a bar fight?

Thumb flicking off the excess blood on his cheek, Suguru Geto eyed you up and apologized in a sweet voice, "Sorry, I hate to do this in front of beautiful women." and then eyed you up for the second time before asking, "What's your name?"

That blood smudged off on your cheek 'cause immediately after introducing yourself through a horny stutter, his tongue was exploring your mouth and the two of you were indulging in the sloppiest, nastiest open-mouthed kiss right there at the bar, in the neon lights.

Lips wetted by his filthy kiss, you blinked at him like you've never been so lovestruck before and he focused in on you and only you — then he asked if you wanted to blow this joint. You batted your lashes at him and nodded with starry eyes, too turned on and starstruck to think that maybe you shouldn't abandon Girl's Night for a pierced up and tatted guy bearing a toothy grin and a biker gang emblem on his jacket.

And then you remember trotting outside to his parked motorcycle, giggling like a teenager as your friends yelled for you to come to your senses because you were hopping onto the back of a Harley with Suguru Geto. But it was no use, because you were turned on by the tattoos in his skin and the lingering smoke on his lips and the devilish look in his eyes and the greasy black hair that passed his shoulders and the way his cock made an outline in his leather pants and the way his gloved hands gripped the handles of his motorcycle and how erotic he made smoking seem.

A two week honeymoon with this bad boy, feeding on each other's lust and feasting on each other's bodies and fucking like animals against the walls of a hotel room and sometimes on the bed but nah, usually you got fucked off the bed and onto the floor.

He inhaled at your neck, getting high on your scent 'n starting to thrust harder into you 'cause of it.

"Mm, why do you smell so fucking good...? It's driving me insane." he purrs, rolling his hips 'n grinding his cockhead deep inside your weeping pussy 'till you start choking up because of the depth he reaches.

"I-I dunno, I'm probably ovulating." you innocently squeaked in reply.

"Oh, fuck... really?" he moaned at that, swallowing back his spit in a way that sounded like he started salivating at the thought of knocking you up. Then he slid his hands down and pried your pussy lips wide apart before thrusting into you, his cock frenzied for your ovulating pussy.

Practically glued together, lips locked and tongues fighting, Suguru nearly crushed you under all his muscle as he started fucking you like he was gonna breed your sweet little body.

You naturally leg-locked his slim waist, and he grunted out a "Stay still f'me, doll, 'm gonna fill you with my babies." to which you cried out a string of "Yesyesyesplease!"

Feeling your nails dig into his sides as he rocked his hips into you made his head spin and his cock explode. You rubbed frantically at your clit, came all over him, feeling the sensation of his warm cum filling you up.

Collapsing on you, a panting mess, moans still spilled from his lips as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm. Next moment, you're giggling and he's rolling off of you and snuggling you in a sweaty afterglow.

Some surprisingly dorky joke comes out his mouth. He pinches at your cheeks. His bicep rests against your side as he holds you. Too tired to clean up yet, but that's fine because Suguru's enjoying the smell of you 'n he hopes all his clothes will smell like you for a while.

"Shit, let's get married... let's just get fucking married. What do you say?" he murmured in a daze, clutching your body tightly, a large hand coming to wipe the sweat off your cheek.

"You're crazy!" you giggled back to him, smilingly biting your thumb and kicking your feet with a ridiculous excitement. "We hardly know each other. And you're a bad boy."

"Aw, come on, I'm not that bad." he grins.

You kick your legs off the bed and sit at the edge, preparing to go to the bathroom. He checks you out; the curve of your back calling out to him to make it arch.

"Maybe you are, maybe you aren't." you teasingly shimmy your shoulders at him.

Suguru grabs at you, groaning and reluctantly letting you slip out his fingers and watching your ass intently as you trot over to the bathroom, 'till you're disappearing behind the door. He rolls over onto his back, looks up at the ceiling, and thinks about how he's gonna get you.

[anastasiabowe]

𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨 — how your boyfriend is and how he acts with you, only you bring out a new him!

note: I saw this format on a couple of posts and wanted to try it out! I would tag people but there is so many people that use this format, so, sorry!

Content warnings: nsfw (17+), swearing, masturbation,(Kagami), overstimulation, bondage (Kise), pussy eating (Teppei),dacryphilia, degradation if you squint (Aomine), riding (Midorima), stand fuck? (Murasakibara), and anything else I forgot!

★ — 𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜

Kagami is a big baby when it comes to you. He always misses you! Even though with his teammates and friends he seems stable and intense, he falls to his knees for you, he cries for you at night, wanting to feel you in every place imaginable. Can’t hold it against him, you’re literally perfect!

You had arrived home from work with Riko, and the apartment you and Kagami share, you only part-time, was weirdly quiet. You dropped off your stuff, and called out to Kagami. You walked slowly to the bedroom, and muffled noises were becoming more and more clear.

Kagami whined and groaned as he worked his cock with his hand. Frustration pinning a furious red on his face and his shirt was in between his teeth. His abs defined from him tending his abdomen and you couldn’t help but get weak in the knees hearing him cry out, not only crying out profanities, but crying out your name.

“Hah, w-wish you were here baby!” He moaned again, trying his hardest to relieve the burn of the blood flowing his dick. He pinched his nipple, and groaned out to that. You pushed open the door, and Kagami flinched, but didn’t stop. Your face was in complete shock and awe and he couldn’t help but nearly come right then and there from simply seeing your face.

You approach the bed, and crawl towards him. “Move your hand.” You command to the red haired man.

“B-but-“ you smacked his thigh, and he removed his hand.

“I wanna help!” Your dominant demeanor no longer evident. You smile, and he nodded aggressively, jerking his hips up when you firmly grabbed his dick.

“T-thank you!” He moaned as you You kiss his heated lips. “Love you so-so much-much!”

★ — 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kise, kise, kise. A kind man at first appearance, a strict man at heart. Don’t get me wrong, kise is a great guy, thoughtful, loving, respectful, but he also wants to be in control. He wants to do things his way, that being where you both go to for a date, or where you lay while he fucks the last brain cells out of your head’s.

Kise sat on the sofa in your shared home. His jaw clenched and legs crossed. His arms draped over the back of the sofa and he watched the show in the screen.

You on the other hand were upstairs, on the king sized bed, hands and legs tied and a vibrator in and on your cunt. You cry as your cunt was overworked and pain was starting to course through your cunt. You could t fee anything but the uncomfortable pain from the vibrations, yet orgasms after orgasms instinctively rip from you.

“K-kise! P-please!” You scream out again, his teeth clenching harder against each other. “I-I’m sorry!” You cried when another orgasm scraped its way out of you.

Kise sighed and stood up. He walked upstairs and into the master bedroom. Your body was limp against the bindings, and your face was completely wet from the tears in your face. You did this to yourself. Even though you couldn’t stand this punishment, you never used your safe word. Kise wanted to pity you, but again you did this to yourself.

He got on the bed, and turned off the vibrators. As he did so, your body convulsed, and then he felt a little bad.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He grabbed your cheeks and moved your head towards him.

“Y-yes.” Your weak voice spoke out. She smiled, and kissed your lip’s softly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Kise took off the cuffs, he cleaned your hypersensitive cunt as gently as he could. He rubbed ointment on your wrists and ankles, and he stripped himself of his shirt and pants, and laid with you.

“Don’t fuck with me again, y/n.” He help you tighter in his arms. You nodded, and he smiled.

★ — 𝗧𝗘𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗜

Can Teppei ever just not be himself? Teppei is the sweetest man known to mankind. Whenever you both hang out, it never feels awkward or unnatural to be around him, he is just so easy to love!

Teppei prepared a warm bath with bath soaps and candles, no rose petals though, he’s allergic, but he did put in rubber duckies, just to be funny! You were exhausted from doing your afterschool job, and he knew exactly what you needed. So when you entered the bath, him behind you, his heart fluttered seeing the face he wanted to see, satisfaction.

He washed your back, and hair. He laid with you, hummed a song that put your mind at ease. He even helped dry you off and carried you back into your shared room.

“Just let me help you relax, baby.” His comforting tone made you follow his command. He spread your pussy lips and began to suck on your clit. His tongue circling it at the same time. You grabbed the pillows as you felt even more amazing with how he was eating you out.

“Mhm, feel good?” He looked up, still eating you out.

“Mhm, very good!” You moan out making him chuckle.

He continued to eat you out until you quickly grabbed his head and pushed him farther into your cunt.

“So close! Please don’t stop!” Teppei pushed your thighs even farther apart, enhancing the pleasure, and also to stop you from crushing his head.

You came while pulling his hair. He groaned at the feeling, and rutted his dick into the mattress from the feeling.

Once you came down from your orgasm, Teppei climbed up to you and hovered over you. you looked up at the brunette who was smiling. You chuckle and said,

“Guess you like hair pulling more than I do!” He laughed and kissed you.

“I guess so!”

★ — 𝗔𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘

Aomine is a bitch. He knows it, I know it, now you know it. And, when I say bitch, I mean he is meeeean! But you’re into that, so who is really complaining? Aomine does everything in his power to make you upset, not like genuinely upset, but more so a “stop being so mean!” Upset. He doesn’t hurt you, call you names or pick at insecurities, he says things like “you can do way better.” In a blunt tone.

Aomine also is distant in a trashy boyfriend way. He is a good boyfriend most times, but a lot of times he just ghosts you, ignores you, and he also sometimes has the audacity to talk to other girls! He doesn’t indulge in any physical contact, but he wants to see you upset or crying.

Aomine is a dacryphiliac. He strives to see you cry. But, it isn’t hard to get you too, because your a baby. A big cry baby while we’re at it. Your dress is too short, you cry. Your shoes aren’t tying right, you cry. If you can’t fall asleep when you want to, you cry! But Aomine loves it.

“Please put it in!” Tears stream down your face as Aomine rubs his tip anywhere and thrusts it everywhere but your cunt. You just wanted to indulge in an intimate session with your boyfriend but he isn’t doing very much.

“Quit your crying, I do what I fucking want.” He slips inside but quickly pulls out. Aomine has good stamina and self control when he wants to, and this is the time where his self control is at its peak. He can just tease and tease until he’s ready.

You ball up your fists and hit the mattress. Your forehead also hirs it as if you were throwing a tantrum.

“Fine.” He said annoyed, and he started to pound into you.

“Y-you- aha! You b-bitch!” You moan out as he rolled his eyes.

“What else is new?” His voice sounded so controlled despite the rapid and aggressive thrusting he was doing.

“Wouldn’t say that shit if I wasn’t fucking my pussy. I’d be grateful if I were you, not many girls get this opportunity.” He said straight into your ear.

“I- aha! I’m gonna c-“

“Shut the fuck up- shit.” He interrupted as he repositioned himself, and pulled you onto him as if you were some sex doll or fleshlight.

“Aominichi!” You squeal as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“Fuck!” He slowed down his thrusts and pulled out of you.

“What are you-“

He flipped you on top of him, and laid back.

“If you want my cum, work for it.”

★ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗔

A literal Aomine opposite. He comes off cold and a know it all, but he is really a great listener and man of advice. You kind of find his whole lucky item thing a bit weird, and how he revolves his whole day around his zodiac and lucky item, but he’s still cute!

He always gets a duplicate of his lucky item, knowing it might not matter to you or have as much luck as for him, but he wants to share as much of his luck with you as he can. He always wants you to be where he is, that being games, school, and even work.

He treats you like his own lucky item, accept he doesn’t need a website or paper to tell him that. He also likes when you take control. He loves when you use him. He’s always so tired of having to worry about this and that, and doesn’t like always being the leader of something since he’s apart of the GOM.

“Mmm, Shintarō!” You moan as you rode him. His large hands gripped your his tightly, and his usually neat green hair was messy and half wet from the multiple rounds you’ve put him through.

“Ha- wha-what’s got you so worked up today?” He was out of breath, and all you could do was smile.

“Having a hot boyfriend comes wit-with perks.” You continued to hop on his long dick, despite the burn of your thighs.

“I see.” He smirked. And he felt another orgasm approach. You rolled your hips, trying to cum one more time.

“I’m so close! Please, Shin, h-help me!” Your legs got the best of you, and you needed his help.

“Alright, but beware, I’m not holding back.” He flipped you both over, and he grabbed your waist. He quickly fucked you both, his hot moans and your pitchy ones filled the room, as this was going to be the last round of many.

“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You repeated over and over, and Midorima leaned down and kissed you.

“Cum for me.” His voice was deeper and that done it for you.

You screamed, and he continued to rut into you until he groaned and came inside of you. He laid on top of you, and you both laid there and caught your breaths.

“Knew that damn coin was going to give me extra fortune today.”

You hit his back, and he chuckled.

★ — 𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗔

This man is LAZY! And I’m not just saying that either. He literally doesn’t want to do anything around the house, he doesn’t want to help with groceries, he just wants to eat and maybe, just maybe, play a small game of basketball, but unlikely.

He usually prefers to sit around the house and watch tv, but when you’ve made it very clear that in order for y’all to fuck, he has to do the work, he was basically a man who worked his whole life.

Since he was a big man, he couldn’t get away with doing nothing. If you need him to get a bug on the ceiling, he’s getting that bug. If you need him to get a kitten out of a tree, he’s getting the kitten, or he won’t get your sweet, delicious cunt.

“No.” You said, even more pissed of than before.

“Why not!” The big ass man whined. His dick laying on his lower abdomen as you sat rught next to him with your arms crossed.

“At your grown age, if you want something done, you’d work to get it done.”

He frowned, and you stood your ground.

“Fine, whatever.” He crossed his arms and looked away. After maybe 5 seconds, he got up and put you over his shoulders.

After many fake attempts of being mad and asking him to put you down, you lost your clothes and was now being moved on his dick like a sex doll. His tall stature and your much shorter one almost made you seem like a doll.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he bounced you up and down his dick.

“Is this enough work for ya?” The spite in his voice thick like honey.

“M-m-hm!” The broken noises from the bouncing were the only things you could muster as his dick reached the deepest parts of your body.

“Always whining about how lazy I am, sorry I like to rest!” He is talking to himself more at this point.

You quietly came in his cock, he didn’t even notice from all the yapping he was doing.

“Just tryna make you happy, but no, always gotta be mad at so-“ his words froze, and you were gone.

“Already dumb on my dick? Had so much shit left to say.” He brought you over to the bed, and just continued to fuck you there

“Lazy!” He laughed to himself. “I’ll show you lazy.” This, my friend, is going to be a long night for you!

[embbarnes]

More filthy Logan thoughts. 18+ Minors DNI. I have no chill. Warnings for typical smut stuff. Hoping to have more fics out soon, in the meantime, enjoy snippets from my brain like these.

Dude. This man would be so insane between your legs.

Sloppy laps and eager suckling, your poor cunt stands no chance. He loves when you whine and squirm too, that deep chuckle against your wet folds as he feels you bucking to try to relieve some of his licks and his arms wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place and trapping you.

"Oh no, you're not goin' anywhere, princess." he growls, his lips turning into a savage grin, his lips and chin soaked in your juices. "I'm gonna have my fill, and you're gonna be a good girl and sit still for me. S'not like you can go anywhere..." he chuckles and watches how your eyes widen and cheeks darken before he dives back in.

Those delicious, beautiful sounds fill the room, your begging and whining are such a turn on for him. He wraps his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks it until it bruises so good, you are a crying mess. Those big tears streak down your red cheeks as you cry for him in ecstasy for the third, fourth, fifth??

You don't even know anymore.

All you know right now is your body is on fire and it feels like the pleasure has consumed you.

It expands to your toes and fingertips, they feel white hot just like your clit and it was such an overwhelming and amazing feeling. His tongue and lips still worked your cunt, he growled against you as he felt your poor pussy cream another orgasm, dripping and soaking the sheets below you.

"Ah, such a messy girl, aren't ya..." he pulled away finally, his breath hot against your core and he laid a sloppy kiss on your clit. Your brow furrowed and your mouth opened as you cried out, nearly cumming again.

He flips you onto your belly swiftly, landing a smack to your ass that makes you yelp and whimper below him. He spreads you open, your embarrassment of being exposed in such a manner made you gasp and whimper loudly.

"Look at that...so pretty. Such a pretty thing you have. You want me there don't you? Is this what you need...hm? You need me right....here?" He pokes the spongy tip of his throbbing cock against your silken folds. You cry out and try to push back on him but he pulls himself away from your greedy hole.

"So impatient...what do you say?" he teases, that damn smirk on his face. He knows how to make you a mess and he relishes in it. Those pretty tears still falling down your face as you held back the urge to literally beg him for his cock. You would've began babbling at that point, you were so desperate for him, you could barely register his words.

"P-Please..." you croaked, your body was shaking, god you needed him so fucking bad.

He could tell you were so desperate for him, you were trembling below him and he was feeling quite merciful today. "Shh, alright princess, it's okay," that gruff voice had a smile to it and you didn't even have to look back to see it. His hand reached around and he wiped your cheek before he leaned back. He had the biggest, shit eating grin spread as he rubbed his cock against your hot, throbbing sex.

"I've got just what you need. I'll make it all better..."

Bye ✌🏻

[mattyriddlesbitch]

ima need to see some Theodore Nott x fem!reader smut where he finds out he likes being sub for only his girlfriend, please and thanks. this is so bad but make him gag on her fingers, i beg of you.

So Needy

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Sub!Theo, Dom!Reader, oral(both male and female), I guess a tad of orgasm control, cussing.

18+ Minors DNI!

You have no idea just how much I love this ask. I was about to put the finger gagging thing in a sub Draco one, but decided against it. I have soooooo many thoughts on sub Theo. But for now, I’ll just do the first time he lets you dom him.

He was a little hesitant to let you take control, but his reason was that he didn’t want you to think any less of him. He didn’t want you thinking he was weak or pathetic.

But he was just so tired. And you were so so needy. And he likes taking care of you.

He was lying on his bed with you straddling him, grinding down on him for a little friction, a little relief. He had to admit, the sight of you on top of him was something he always loved. But you were a little hesitant to ride him before now. Now you were craving his dick in you. But you knew he was tired. He had just gotten back from a grueling quidditch practice. But he also just showered and smelled so good. And the way you felt his dick strain against his sweatpants as you were grinding on him felt so good.

“You know I wanna take care of you, mi amore.” He said, rubbing his hands on your thighs, your bare thighs, under your skirt.

“I wanna ride you.” You said, putting your palms on his chest for more leverage to keep grinding on him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, but he could see your blown out pupils and the way you were breathing.

“Yes.” You answer quickly.

“Alright, principessa, if you really want to.” He nodded slightly and you scrambled to get off of him quickly.

You quickly tugged off his sweatpants and underwear, and kneeled between his legs. He was already so hard from your grinding. You took his cock in your hand and leaned down, spitting on his cock and using your hand to spread it down the length of his dick. You teased his tip and he let out a soft groan. That groan went straight to your core and you moaned in return. You took him in your mouth now, slowly, oh so slowly and he threw his head back into the pillows.

“Your mouth is so perfect.” He said before looking back at you. He really did want to grip your hair and guide you, but he also loved the way you teased him. It drove him crazy. So he grabbed at the sheets instead. You looked up at him and it nearly killed him. He watched as you trailed your tongue along the bottom of his shaft and that sight alone could make him cum. He’s definitely remembering that the next time you can’t help him out. He was biting at his lip as he watched you, moaning desperately as you took him back into your mouth.

But that only lasted a few more moments before you had an idea and stood up, pulling off your panties. He watched you as you climbed back onto the bed, only this time you moved to straddle his face. His face was covered by your skirt, but he didn’t care. His mouth was on your pussy instantly, moving his hands to hold your hips. You moaned as you left him lapping at your pussy desperately. Almost like he was the one who started this all.

“God, Theo, you’re so good for me.” You said, holding onto the headboard. He moaned into you in response. He seemed to like that. A lot. “You’re such a good boy for me.” You said before reaching down and moving your skirt a bit to hold onto his hair. You started riding his face, moving your hips to rub your pussy on his tongue. He was moaning and groaning so loud now, even louder than you, like this is what he lived for. “That’s it, baby, just keep doing that for me.” You said, throwing your head back as you moaned. His face was still hidden by your skirt, but if you could see him, you could see just how fucked out and pussy drunk he was.

Your orgasm came faster than expected. You trembled and cried out above him and he just stayed there, holding you up as he helped you ride out your high. 

You moved off of his face and now you could see just how fucked out he was. Face red, pupils blown, lips and chin all wet from you, chest heaving as he watched you strip fully before coming back to the bed, kneeling beside him.

“You wanna cum now, baby?” You asked him, running a hand through his hair as he nodded. “No. I need your words. What do you want?” You asked and reached your hand to stroke at his cock.

He closed his eyes for a second, groaning softly before looking at you again. “I wanna cum in you, cara mia.” He said, and you could feel him trying to thrust into your hand for more friction.

“Beg.” It was a simple command. But you had no idea where this came from. You’d never done this before. But it was amazing. Seeing your hot, strong, and desperate boyfriend begging for you and letting you do whatever you wanted with him. He was hesitating, so you moved your hand from his cock and he whimpered. That fucking whimper.

“I need to cum in you so bad, principessa, please. Please fuck me.” He said, he looked so embarrassed. But it seemed his neediness outweighed it.

“So fucking needy.” You said and moved to straddle him, positioning him at your entrance. “And here you were, complaining about how tired you were.” You teased him before starting to sink down on him, moaning at the feeling. He moaned as well, grabbing at the sheets again so he wouldn’t touch you. He just wanted to see you ride him, take care of him, more than anything else in the world at this moment. You both moaned once he was fully inside you, taking a moment to adjust to his cock.

Once you started to move, he really didn’t hold back any sounds. All the moans, groans, whimpers, whines, curses, compliments. They all came out of his mouth as he watched your pussy taking his cock over and over. He couldn’t look away.

“You’re talking so much, amore mio. What’s got you so loud?” You said in a bit of a teasing tone.

“You feel so good, so tight, so warm.” He said, moaning again as you put your hands on his chest to start grinding, making his dick hit that spot inside you that could make you cum so hard you’ll scream.

“How about we put that mouth to use then.” You said and brought one hand up to his mouth, shoving two fingers in it. He was moaning around them now, licking and sucking away. “That’s my good boy.” You said and he rolled his eyes back, groaning. “You love being so good for me, don’t you?” You ask him and he moaned in response with the smallest nod. “You wanna be a good boy and fill me up?” He moaned and nodded again in response. “Ask me for it then.” You said and he groaned against your fingers. “You gotta ask.” He opened his mouth and was moaning, you could tell he was trying to talk, but your fingers were stopping him. “You’re trying so hard. You’re doing such a good job.” He whined and you smiled. “I wanna feel you cum inside, baby.” You said and he nodded slightly again, going back to wrapping his pretty lips around your fingers. 

You kept grinding on him, curses and praises leaving your mouth as his cock fit that spot over and over until you came again, trembling and cursing. He was right behind you, the feeling of your pussy cumming on him sending him over the edge, and he was filling you with his cum until it was spilling out of you.

As you both caught your breath, he leaned his head back onto the pillows, pulling off your fingers as he stared up at you.

“That was so fucking hot, cara mia.” He said, rubbing his hands soothingly on your hips and thighs. “You’re so hot when you’re in charge like that.”

“I have no idea what came over me.” You admit, still breathing heavily.

“I hope it comes over you more.”

[lostalioth]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭

→ premise: you in those damn jeans, those stupid jeans that fit you just right. your hips, your waist, your thighs. and god your ass in those jeans nearly had sam drooling. it was shameful he knew it but he couldn’t help it, not when your ass looked so prefect.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, anal, caught masturbating, switch!sam? [he’s dominating but also jsut whiny and desperate?], nicknames [angel, baby], no lube or prep really for the anal part [i lowkey didn’t wanna write it lmao], not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 17

It was pathetic, he was pathetic he knew that and yet he just couldn't care at the moment nor help himself. You looked so good he swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain malfunction, and his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive. 

He couldn't focus, could barely understand a word the witnesses were saying, it was all going in one ear and out the other. His eyes were just glued on you, on your body, on those stupid perfectly fitting jeans you wore. He felt like a hormonal teenager again, getting all worked up over a dumb pair of tight jeans on a woman. It didn't help that Sam has already been nursing a small crush on you that he’s had sense him and his brother met you. 

He had to bail on you and dean in the middle of the interviews, giving the both of you some excuse about not feeling the best and that maybe he needed some extra rest. Though in truth his pants were just getting tighter by the minute and his head getting foggier. He somehow managed to walk himself back to the motel, the short walk doing not a damn thing to clear his head. You in those fucking jeans, those jeans that hug your thighs and your wasit just right, those stupidly tight jeans that made your ass look so fucking bitable it was making him lose his mind. 

Even though muffled by his t-shirt pulled up and tucked between his teeth all that filled the quiet dingy motel room were Sams whines they were so loud. He was a mess the second he unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants and boxers down his thighs. His large hand furiously stroking up and down his aching cock, pulling strangled whimpers and cries from his lips. His precum leaking out from his tip acting as lube for his hand to glide along his shaft faster, squeezing it hard as he goes. 

He was already so close, it only added to his feeling of being pathetic, he really was a horny teenager now, he couldn't even last that long with his fist around his cock and his head filled with thoughts of you. You on top of him riding him as he whines, you under him your limbs an entangled mess as you pant and moan into his mouth. Him with his head buried between your thighs, you on your knees for him with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, any and all different kinds of images of you all over him. “Need you s’bad, s‘fuckin’ bad holy shit….” He hissed through his teeth in a hushed tone as his head fell back in pleasure, cries of your name and whines about how good you looked fall from his mouth like a waterfall the closer he gets to the edge.

“Hey Sam? Honey? you doing okay?” Your voice shattered the daydream going on in his head that was just about to make him cum. In shock and embarrassment his hand stills, inadvertently edging himself. The nickname only makes his cock twitch more as a short whine comes out of his mouth in response. He was caught and it should be embarrassing, humiliating even, you caught him jerking off in the middle of the day. He should be feeling anything else but what he was right now, It shouldn’t excite him that you caught him. But he was too far gone into a desperate type of head space to care at the moment. 

“Oh shit!, i'm sorry i didn't mean to barge in i thought you’d be napping” you babble out, covering your face as heat spreads through your body as you turn around and move like you're about to leave. As you turn sam gets an even better almost 360º view of your body, how the jeans cling to your thighs, the waistband snug around your waist, the denim looks practically painted on your ass, they were so tight.

“Need it s’bad, please i need you s’bad yoou dont have to leave” he whines out, you had already caught him so any composure or decorum he had has been thrown out the window alongside reason. He could be completely ruining your friendship at this moment, you could be disgusted with him and reject him but he was taking that risk cause he was desperate. 

Your body as if moving on its own accord, revealing your own hidden desires turns back around to face Sam, slowly taking your hands away from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes scan over his body, his shirt tugged up and stuffed in his mouth exposing his chest, a small trail of hair leading down to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around his cock, a pleading look in his glazed over eyes. Slowly you make your way over to him spread out on the bed, your steps careful as if you were gonna spook him by moving too fast. “What- Uh- what do you need honey?” You question, still a bit confused and extremely nervous. You’d do anything to help Sam, and getting to see him like this all pathetic and desperate was a bonus that was making slick settle in your core and your thighs clench together. 

“I need you, want you s’bad” he whines out dropping his shirt from his mouth as he grabs ahold of your hand when you get close enough. Placing your hand on his stiff throbbing cock with his own, you let out a small gasp at the feeling of his warm cock under your touch. “This is what you do to me, you and ya’ fucking stupid tight jeans” he hissed out, letting go of your hand and taking note of the fact you dont move it off his cock he slaps your ass hard with his big hand resting and gropping at it after it comes down. 

“These damn jeans that make your ass look so good angel, so good that I couldn't focus, baby. Wanna fuck you s’bad, wanna fuck this ass” he was rambling now looking up at you with his signature puppy eyed look that made you melt. He was so hard it was getting painful, especially since he stopped himself right when he was gonna cum.

He's already thrown caution to the wind by this point, there was no going back.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You gave in. 

Willing to do whatever it took to make Sam feel better as well as the fact that all his begging had made you about just as desperate for him. He had you on his lap now, your back pressed against his bare chest. He was quick to strip you of all your clothes, eyes glued to the way he had to practically peel your jeans off your body. Your thighs were spread and laid over his legs that he had bent up, his feet planted flat on the bed. 

Your head was spinning from the feeling of his rough hands exploring every inch of your body. Palming at your tits and his thumb flicking your nipples, squeezing your waist when you squirm in his grasp and grind your ass against him. His lips were mouthing and kissing along your neck, tongue poking out to lick up the side and even behind your ear, sucking patches of small hickies onto the unmarked skin. Your body relaxed more and more in his arms as Sam said; “Need you real relaxed for this angel okay? As bad as i want this i don't wanna hurt ya’” you were certainly relaxed once his thumb started rubbing circles over your bundle of nerves, sighing in a mixture of pleasure and relief. You whine softly as your pussy aches, begging for release already as your folds are dripping in slick, a trail of it sliding down your cunt to your ass even. 

Lifting his hips his tip nudges at the tight ring of muscle of your ass, his precum that hasn't stopped leaking as well as his spit that coated his cock acted as your only form of lube as he bullies his thick cock inside. With a broken gasp in both pain and pleasure at the new sensation you dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm that was wrapped around your stomach holding you against him. “Sam~ Honey- Fuck!” You blabber out in a string of jumbled together moans, losing track of where you were gonna go with your sentence once his cock pushes all the way inside, your hole sucking his cock inside. 

“Atta’ girl, s’good f’me angel. God your ass is so fuckin’ tight” he cries out, he was already still on edge from just his fist but this feeling was gonna send him flying over it faster than he wanted. The pleasure of his cock filing your ass as well as his thumb which hasn't stopped playing with your clit has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last long, it's too much” you moan out as his hips buck up and thrust into you, settling at a fast and relentless pace not giving you any more time to get adjusted. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay, j’ cum, just cum for me angel” he nods his head frantically, moans and desperate cries fill the room and you don't know what sounds are coming from who as you clench down on him. 

Your body tensing up and your eyes screwing shut as your climax washes over you, a loud wanton moan falling out of your mouth. Worry about the other residents hearing anything long since past, Sam even felt a small ego boost knowing they were hearing you scream out his name. His hips not stopping their hard thrusting, Sam too lost in pleasure with his head buried in your neck as his cock pounds your ass making you see stars as you cum. 

“Feel so good angel, holy shit squeezin’ me even tighter as you cum shit~” he groans out, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine as his breath fans across your ear. Your cum leaks out of your pussy, sliding down to Sams cock giving it even more slick for him to fuck up into you harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. 

“Gonna cum angel, but dont think im done with ya’ when i do, need to fuck that pretty pussy too. Been dreamin’ about that sense we met, need to make you all mine” he cries out as he turns your face towards his and crashes his lips against yours, kissing you like a man starved. His moans are muffled into the kiss as well as more whines of your name as he cums hard.

→ a/n: AHHHH last day of kinktober is tomorrow!! Im hoping i get to post the last day on halloween but i might not so if i dont expect it nov

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

[kbwrites]

Please Me!

synopsis: choso had fought battles and witnessed many horrors—yet nothing quite compared to the way his heart would race when you were near.

⚝ content: virgin!choso x f!reader, nsfw, oral (giving and receiving), praise kink, MOMMY KINK

⚝ a/n: never wrote for choso, hopefully this hits

⚝ wc: 1.8k

There’s only so much that advice can really help. Only so much that late-night tv channels can really prepare you. And that’s what Choso soon found out as he laid stiff as a board on the bed of his dorm. You, his darling girlfriend, were completely absorbed in the TV show you were watching. And completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Choso was new to a lot of things—being alive, streaming platforms, that weird feeling when you wave back at someone who wasn’t waving at you. He had fought battles, witnessed many horrors—yet nothing quite compared to the way his heart would race when you were near.

His honey-colored eyes steal glances, captivated by the way your lips part slightly as you focus on the TV. The soft glow from the screen highlights the curves of your supple skin exposed by your tank top and shorts. He can't help but notice the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest with each steady breath. Forget whatever’s on the screen; YOU were more entertaining than any show could ever be.

He takes in a shaky breath, feeling the blood rush from his brain. He was grateful for his blood manipulation more than anything right now—redirecting the flow elsewhere.

In the time before he met you, Choso had jerked off maybe three times. Once as curiosity got the better of him and then another time when he accidentally found the magazines his younger brother kept under his bed. The third time was right after a pool party, when he saw you for the first time in a bikini. He began touching himself almost daily after that, whining out sweet cries of your name as thick spurts cum leaked out of him.

And now that you were his girlfriend? It was even worse. He felt bad of course, unsure of how to approach you with these new emotions. Would you push him away? Think he was a pervert?

So he resorted to cumming to just the thought of you.

“Hello? Did you wanna order some food Cho?” He’s snapped out of his thoughts, heart thumping in his chest. Had you been talking to him the whole time? He took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure before nodding.

“Yeah… Pizza?” His voice wavers, trying to sound casual. You nod in agreement and climb onto his lap, peering over his shoulder at the phone as he fumbles with the delivery website. As you settle against him, his entire body freezes, every muscle tensing at the unexpected closeness. Your warmth against him makes his breath hitch, he can barely focus on the screen. The softness of your body pressed so close, combined with the gentle scent of your shampoo, makes it nearly impossible for him to think straight.

He finally manages to place the order, setting his phone down with a sigh of relief. His shaky hands, almost involuntarily, come to rest on your thighs, fingers barely grazing the soft fabric of your shorts.

“I-it’s done..” He breathes, looking up at you. You respond with a warm smile of appreciation, leaning down to give him a soft, gentle peck. The unexpected touch sends a jolt through him, and he moans almost instantly, a wave of embarrassment washing over him as he hears the sound escape his lips.

Kissing was normal, one of Choso’s favorite things to do after cuddling you. But tonight, with the warmth of your body pressing against him and the softness of your lips lingering on his, he found himself yearning for something deeper.

“Baby…” His voice is low and laden with longing, the word barely escaping his lips as he gazes into your eyes. You look at him expectantly.

“Can I… touch you?” The question catches you off guard, a quiet gasp escaping your lips. His golden eyes are filled with a pleading intensity you haven’t seen before. His hands, though hesitant, move slowly under your shorts, fingers gently squeezing the plush of your inner thigh with a needy touch.

“You mean…”

“Yes.” He interrupts you, his voice anxious and earnest. “Is that okay?”

You nod looking down at him, his pupils fully dilated a faint blush dusted around his tattooed face. He pulls you closer to him, groaning as you brushed his clothed erection. His lips latch onto your neck, feverishly sucking and licking your skin.

“I’ll be so good… I promise. Make you feel so good.” He mumbles into your skin. Your hands find his broad shoulders, holding onto him for support. Choso feels a rush of excitement as his hands roam your body, trailing hot kisses down your neck to your collarbone. His large hands snake under your top, exploring the skin of your chest.

He looks up at you as his fingers caress your breasts, pinching and flicking experimentally to see your reaction. His gaze eager as he takes note of what makes you make those deliciously addicting noises. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, swallowing the music to his ears as you whimper under his touch. Pulling away, his breath comes out in ragged gasps.

“Is this okay?” his voice low and husky as his index and thumb rolled over your hardened bud.

“Yes.. keep going. Such a good boy~” You gasp raking your hands through his hair. Choso swears his heart stops when the words escape your plump lips. His cock straining against his pants at the praise. Hips buck up, grinding against your clothed cunt.

“F-fuck.. Yes, I’m a good boy…” He purrs lifting your shirt up over your head. Choso takes a moment to drink in the sight before delving into your chest. Licking and sucking, your boyfriend slobbers greedily on your tits making you moan and whimper. He growls lowly as he latches onto your nipple, tongue swirling around as he hungrily sucks.

Coming up for air he parts, a trail of spit dripping from his mouth.

“Please… need more. Can I have more?” His words come out in jumbled fragments, strained and desperate as his hands roam eagerly across your body. Your mind is hazy, skin on fire as you feel your back hit the cool fabric of the mattress. Your boyfriend climbs on top of you, looking down through half-lidded eyes.

“Cho… please..” You whine, squirming under him, your thighs squeeze together desperately trying to calm the heat pooling in your core.

“Please what baby? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His hands moving down your body, resting at the waistband of your shorts. You nod approval as he tugs at the fabric pulling them down your legs. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes fixated on your cunt. Staring in awe… so much better than he had imagined. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he eyes your wet entrance hungrily.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes Cho—” before you can even finish your thought he laps greedily at your folds, slurping up all of your slick as he explores your cunt with his mouth. His technique is sloppy, but damn it's intoxicating as his tongue licks and swirls around your clit like a man starved. He looks up at you through hooded eyes, completely drunk off of your taste. His hands grip your thighs pulling your closer onto his face, his nose bumping against the bundle of nerves as his wet muscle teases your weeping hole. 

“So good… tastes soo fuckin’ good.” His eyes roll back as your body arches against the mattress. You feel your body get hot as he continues lapping at your cunt. You mewled praises to your boyfriend making him moan, vibrations against your skin.

“Chosooo” You whine as his slender finger is sucked into your walls. He pumps in and out slowly, gauging your reaction. “Oh my goddd.” You cry out, knuckles white from gripping the bed sheets.  His mouth leaves your clit watching curiously as his finger enters your hole. Completely captivated by the way your pussy sucks him in.

“Fuck.. princess are you close? Tell me you’re close…” He whines grinding his clothed cock into the bed. He moves his thumb to circle your swollen pearl.

You nod, whimpering under his touch. “Close Cho~” Is all you can muster.

“Yeah? Me too baby me too.” He groans bucking his hips into the mattress. 

The building pressure finally bursts as your walls clench around Choso’s finger. He watches in pure amazement as your body shivers and writhes underneath me, slowly removing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. Cum painting the inside of his boxers as he licks them clean. 

He climbs on top of you, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you catch your breath. He presses his erection into you, your eyes travel to the wet spot forming in your boyfriend’s jeans.

“Choso… did you?” He follows your gaze to his jeans, a wave of embarrassment flushing across his face as he moves off of you.

“I.. yeah. I did...” His tone sheepish as his cheeks flushed darker. “I couldn’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.. and— and hot.” He looked away, heart racing. You smile at him, crawling between his legs. He lets out a soft whine as your hand palms his hard-on.

“W-what are you doing?” His voice mixed with surprise and arousal. He watched your hands, his breath coming in short gasps as you fumbled with the button and zipper the anticipation of your slow movements making his brain foggy. “Fuck.. please. Touch me mommy.” His hips lifting as you removed his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free from its confines.

And what a marvelous cock it was. Not too thick but long, flushed rosy tip that was still leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. You stared at his length hungrily. Choso feels himself get bashful under your gaze.

“Is something wrong?” He questions, you can only chuckle in return. How could he not be aware his dick was so pretty?

Your hand wraps around his throbbing length, pumping slowly as you watch him squirm. His back arches, gripping onto the sheets as he lets out pretty whimpers.

“Does that feel good baby?” You coo as he nods furiously, biting his bruised lip.

“Yesyes.. Fuck m-mommy feels.. Goddd sogoodsofuckinggood.” He cries out, cock overstimulated from already cumming. The intense pleasure rendering him unable to form coherent sentences. His body quivers feeling your soft hands stroke him, struggling to speak as his voice comes out as a shaky, gasped plea.

“Need to cum..” Choso whines as his face flushes. “Pleaseplease gonna—” He whimpers. Seed shooting out, hot spurts flowing down his shaft and your hand. Your tongue lolls out, tasting him as he throws his head back against the bedframe. His strong arms pull you onto him, pulling you into sloppy kiss as his tongue darts out to taste himself on you. You grin as you feel his cock twitch under you. He pulls back slightly, panting as his hands dig into the fat of your hips. Choso’s hips buck up into you as he grinds his growing erection into your cunt. You had created a monster, that much was certain.

“Need to feel you baby… ALL of you.”